


spontaneity (and not the good kind)

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Blood, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: Of all the fucking times for Stiles to get a spontaneous nosebleed, it has to be while Scott is blowing him for the first time.





	spontaneity (and not the good kind)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the prompt "sciles with 69. “Why the hell are you bleeding!? :):)" this prompt has been sitting in my inbox for so. fucking. long. oops. set sometime during the show's run.
> 
> this also totally works for the prompt "things going wrong during sex that leads to laughter" from [this](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/post/170288406393/tickatocka-some-fun-sex-tropes-laughing-during) list, which I am slowly making my way through.

Stiles thinks it's fairly safe to say that he's watched a _lot_ of porn in his life. Probably too much, if he's being honest. And it's also fairly safe to say that he's spent a good portion of the time that he wasn't watching porn fantasizing about Scott in some way or another. 

(Sometimes, of course, he did both at the same time. Multi-tasking and all that.) 

But despite literal years of what was, in some way, preparation for this exact moment, the truth is that the hours and hours he lost to either the internet or the depths of his own mind did absolute fuck all to prepare him for the actual _reality_ of having Scott kneeling on the floor between his splayed apart legs, fingers curled tight around Stiles' knees, feverishly warm mouth wrapped around Stiles' dick. 

He's pretty sure that all of the porn in the _world_ couldn't have prepared him for this. 

Scott hasn't been at it for long; he's just started to establish a solid rhythm, head tentatively bobbing up and down. But Stiles is already having a hard time holding himself back, has counted back from ten at least four times, has tried to conjure up the most unpleasant mental images he can think of, just so that he doesn't shoot off before Scott can really even get started. 

But despite his best efforts, he's pretty sure that he's not going to be able to last much longer. There's just so much sensation, all of it totally new to him. Scott's mouth is overwhelmingly wet, and the sight of his lips slicked with saliva, the way he pants for breath when he pulls away, as if _he's_ the one getting blown, is almost ludicrously hot. 

Stiles is pretty sure he's never going to be able to sit in his desk chair again without getting an immediate boner. 

After Scott pulls away to breathe for a moment, he swallows Stiles back down, lips meeting where his hand is wrapped around the base of his dick, and Stiles' vision whites out. He drops his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, slides his fingers through Scott's hair and bites down hard on his own lip. 

Thank _God_ that his dad is working the night shift.

"Fuck," he groans, trying his best not to arch up into Scott's mouth. "God, feels so good." 

He doesn't expect Scott to answer him, aside from maybe a mumble, but he _also_ doesn't expect Scott to abruptly pull off and stare up at him, face furrowed with concern.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happens.

"Why are you bleeding?" he asks, eyes sweeping from Stiles' head down to his toes, which are curled against the floor, and back. "Did I do something wrong?" 

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asks, giving himself a cursory glanceover. "I'm not bleeding."

The words barely leave his mouth before he feels a distinct, familiar pressure in the bridge of his nose that immediately starts moving down towards his nostrils. 

He just barely manages to clap one hand to his nose, shove his dick back into his boxers and run off to the bathroom before blood starts pouring from his nostrils. Thankfully, he reaches the sink before it can start trickling from between his fingers, and he turns the water on and sags against the counter, watches the water turn red as the blood drips over his upper lip and down the drain. After a moment, he pinches his nose shut. The inside of his mouth tastes like he licked a penny, but he thankfully hasn't swallowed enough to actually make him feel sick. 

(He'd only done that once, when he was a kid; their kindergarten teacher had told him to tilt his head back, and he'd ended up throwing up on her shoes when she came to check up on him. 

In retrospect, she deserved it.)

Scott's footsteps echo down the hallway, and he steps into the bathroom and lays one hand between Stiles' shoulder blades, rubs it back and forth. When Stiles glances up in the mirror, Scott is frowning and gnawing on his bottom lip; thankfully, there's no blood on him. 

"Thank God for those werewolf senses of yours," Stiles laughs, shaking his head a little at the sheer fucking absurdity of the situation. It's been almost six months since he's gotten a spontaneous nosebleed, so of course it would happen _now,_ on what was shaping up to be one of the best days of his life. Scott's mouth ticks up a little, but he still looks so damn worried that Stiles wants to pull him into a hug and tell him that it's alright. 

But he'd probably just end up getting blood all over him.

"Is there anything you want me to do?" he asks. Stiles shakes his head and sighs; until the bleeding comes to a stop, there's not much that either of them can do except be patient.

But he doesn't want this to totally ruin his night. It was going so _well_ , and not only does he want to come (he's still a little hard, actually), but he wants to return the favor to Scott. 

"In half an hour or so, can we pretend this never happened and pick up where we left off?" he asks, voice a nasally croak that makes him laugh again. 

This time, Scott full-on smiles, and he leans over Stiles' shoulder and kisses the side of his neck. 

Stiles' knees go weak, and not because of the blood loss. 

Yet another thing all the fantasizing in the world couldn't have prepared him for. 

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Whatever you want, Stiles." 

(And Stiles doesn't know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but he does know that he's never fucking letting it go.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
